The Departed
by nerd girl nithagria
Summary: Starts after CoLS (completely disregards CoHF because I started this before it came out). Wrenches are thrown in the works when Clary's friends, Will, Celia and Ky, return from abroad, but the Institute Shadowhunters will have to trust them if they ever hope to defeat Sebastian.
1. Chapter 1

The Infirmary of the Institute looked no different than it had the first time Clary had seen in only four months ago. Strange to think that so little time had passed, but then, time, she supposed, flew when you were having "fun".

If the whirlwind of the last four months could be called "fun".

Jace was leaning his head on her shoulder, quietly humming something, tracing out patterns on her arms. Runes, probably. Jace never really was much of an artist beyond that.

"What are you humming?" She asked him drowsily. They had been sitting together for a long time, and his lullaby was making her sleepy.

"A favorite of mine," His smile, for once, wasn't wolfish, but nostalgic. "I was playing it the first day we really met. Do you remember?"

She curled into his side a little farther and chuckled. "I was just thinking about it actually." She frowned suddenly as another stray memory floated into her head. "You burned my clothes."

He pressed a fleeting kiss to the crown of her head. "It was for the best. And you just looked So. Good. In Isabella's."

She turned her head to glare at him. "I still don't believe it was really necessary."

His eyes flashed with a familiar superiority. "I regret nothing."

"Of course you don't," she muttered. Her gaze had unabashedly fallen on his lips and he smiled as he leaned into kiss her.

She almost scalded herself on the heat that came off of him in that moment. She pulled away just in time. "You need to work on that," she scolded.

He pouted, looking for all the world like a toddler who's favorite toy had been taken away. "It's not like it's something I'm _trying_ to do."

Clary shook her head, partly bemused, partly annoyed. The universe, it seemed, was constantly scheming to keep them apart. "Yes, well—"

"Clary? Jace?" Isabelle's voice was followed by her sticking her head through the infirmary door. "Oh good you're not…indisposed."

Behind her, Jace laughed. For her own part, Clary struggled to keep her jaw from dropping. Isabelle's directness would never cease to disarm her. She settled for smiling, if a little cynically.

"No," Clary replied. "Quite the opposite. What's up?"

"We finally got that new trainer in—you know, to replace Hodge? Well she's here and she want's to meet both of you."

"She?" Clary asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Hey, don't hate on girl-power," Isabelle teased. "But yes, 'She', and she's super nice too, so come on."

Isabelle disappeared back through the doorway and Clary and Jace rose slowly to follow, carefully working out the krinks in their joints from sitting still so long. In the hallway, Isabelle was waiting for them and together they started walking towards the training room.

"So Iz," jace started up, "What's the new lady's name?"

Isabelle's brow furrowed in concentration for a minute. "It was weird—gaelic or Irish I think. Started with an 'A'… Aingealceol? I think?"

Clary step falter for a minute. "Aingealceol? Really? Are you sure?"

Isabelle looked between she and Jace, confused. "Yeah…that sounds about right. Why?"

Clary shook her head. "It's…It's nothing" she said lamely. "Just sounds familiar."

"You probably heard about them somewhere in Idris," Jace supplied.

Isabelle looked back at the pair of them over her shoulder. "Jace is right, Clary. I think my mom said something about the Aingaelceol's running the Institute in Dublin—they're an old family."

"Right," Clary said quietly, wrapped up in her onw thoughts already.

When they reached the doors of the training room, Isabelle pushed them open, peering her head around the corner.

"Mom?" She asked. "I brought them up. They were in the Infirmary still."

The first thing Clary registered as she stepped into the room, as always, was the size of it, with the wooden beams rising high above her head for them to practice jumps and agility on. The entire place was study of worn our browns and it was something she had, on more than one occasion, had attempted to draw. Something had always stopped her from catching the true feel of the place though.

Standing on the floor in the middle of the room was Maryse, looking as coldly beautiful as ever. She was deeply engaged in conversation with a woman whose long tawny hair was pulled into a loose ponytail that fell about midway down her back—the new trainer. Both women looked up as the trio entered the room, the later smiling warmly at Clary.

"Clary," She breathed fondly, the one word tainted with the faintest for Irish accents. She held out her arms and Clary rushed to embrace her.

"It's good to see you," She mumbled into the older woman's shoulder.

"And you as well," replied Aingaelceol.

"How…?" Izzy asked Jace from a few paces away, bewilderment coloring her features.

Jace, however, was equally dumbfounded. "I have no idea."

Maryse smiled warmly. "So you too have met then? Carolyn, this is my son, Jace. Jace, this is Carlyn, the newest member of our little family."

Jace stepped forward to shake the proffered hand, but after he glanced between Clary's petit form and Carolyn's willowy one. "I'm sorry," he started, "But…how do you two know each other."

Carolyn's responding laugh was hearty. "Clary and my son have known each other for years. I wanted a little peace and quiet from the Clave and the politics of the Glass City after the Circle uprising and some other…tumultuous events in my life, and Jocelyn and I became fast friends once she realized I wasn't about to reveal her secret to anyone."

Clary smiled up at Carolyn. "Mrs. Aingaelceol is like a second mom to me, I guess. Speaking of Will though…does this mean he's home?"

Carolyn smiled. "He's downstairs waiting for me to finish up here. He's been eager to go meet up with you and Simon since we got home."

"That bastard," Clary muttered. "He never gave me the slightest notification that he was back, only that he wouldn't be home for school."

Carolyn frowned. "When things started heating up here with Valentine, I figured he was better off with Celia and Ky, away from all the drama."

Clary looked at her pointedly. "He still should have told me."

Carolyn chuckled. "Perhaps. I'm sure there's time to seek retribution though."

"Indeed," Clary said as she headed towards the door. "Oh, is he about to learn a lesson."

"Don't kill him," Carolyn called after Clary's retreating form. At notice of the Lightwood's bewildered looks, she smiled coquettishly. "I'd explain, but it's a long history."

"No," Jace said, stunned, "I think we get the jist of it."


	2. Chapter 2

As Clary sped down the hallway towards the entry where she knew Will was waiting, she was driven by her desire to hit him with the force of a speeding train and then kick him. Several times. Preferably while he was down and the ground begging for mercy. She and Will had known each other since they were seven. Besides Simon, he was her best friend. Being a Shadowhunter wasn't the kind of thing best friends kept from each other. That was the freaking awesome kind of stuff that bestfriends told each other when they were staying up late together, sitting under a blanket, holding up a flashlight and telling their deepest darkest secrets. She felt personally betrayed by Will's omission, especially since, up until then, he had always been honest with her, about her art, about the guys she took an interest in, about what he thought nd what he felt. He had never lied, not once, until now. What she wanted to do to him wasn't nearly punishment enough.

Yet, as she reached the entry, she slowed. There he stood, looking familiar as ever. Same messy, almost too long black hair, same pale brush of skin and faint dash of color along the edges of his cheeks, same mouth, twitched up as always in that almost smile, as if he was waiting for you to tell a joke and he was already laughing at the punchline. He was wearing a dark pair of jeans she had never seen before, but she would have recognized that fading rag of an ELO t-shirt anywhere, as well as the dark blue hoodie and the ratty black converse she had painted with clef signs for him.

He had been gone for almost nine months. It was the longest either of them had gone without seeing each other in their entire lives, yet here he was, exactly the same through everything she'd been through in the past few months, as if nothing had ever changed at all.

"You got new pants," was all she could bring herself to say.

He looked up, sapphire eyes flashing with a smile and bright humor. "Clary."

And just like that, she was in his arms and he was swinging her around like he always did when she ran to hug him and they'd been apart for so long.

"I missed you," she muttered into his shoulder.

"I was so worried," he breathed into her ear.

When they pulled apart, his smile was shy, but his hands stayed on her shoulders, a comforting weight that reminded her why he was always her confidant. He raised a finger to absently brush a ginger strand away from her face, but mostly, he was caught up in her. The reunion, it seemed, was just as emotional for him as it had been for her, apparently.

"You're a Shadowhunter," she half-laughed, half cried.

He chucked at that. "Yeah, yeah. Guilty as charged."

His eyes flited up quickly to meet hers before landing on his feet, and he stepped back, pulling his hands off her shoulders. He tucked them around himself, nervous. Looked at her again. "Are you mad?"

His voice, Clary thought, hadn't been so small since he confessed that he had lost her notebook in 5th grade. "Will," she said, reaching to grab his hand. "I think it's impossible to be mad at you. Although," she said, dropping his hand so she could slap him. "You could have mentioned it."

"Yeah," He admitted, pressing his fingers to the red mark that was already appearing on his face. "I probably could have mentioned it."

"Just once or twice."

"Well…"

" _William_ ,"

"To be fair," he said, pointing at her to emphasize his point. "Your mom didn't want you to know. Can you imagine the shit storm that would have followed if I had told you? I never would have seen you again!"

"Alright," She deliberated. "That's fair." Still, she reached up and slapped him again.

He reeled back, but didn't miss the brunt of the blow. "Clary! What was that for,"

"For not sending word once you knew I knew."

He scowled. "You should have told me!"

"I didn't know where you were half the time!"

"You could have called!"

"You didn't have international minutes! You told me this before you left!"

"I didn't have—aww, come here." He swept her up in a big bear hug again, her face pressed into the soft fabric of his shirt. "I'm sorry I wasn't around, Clare. I should've been here for you and I wasn't and I'm so, so sorry."

"It's alright," She whispered into his chest, wrapping her arms tighter around him. "I forgive you."

"What the Hell is this?" Jace's voice thundered from down the hallway. He was scowling a little bit and Clary reluctantly pulled away from Will once more. For his part, Will left his fingers resting loosely on her waist, anchoring her too him.

Will's smile was genuine as he held out a hand for Jace to shake. "I'm Will, I'm Carolyn's son, and you are…?"

Jace smirked the proffered courtesy like if it was beneath hum, sparing less than a second for his eyes to flit down to look at Will's hand before the met Will's eyes with an unexpected hostility.

"I'm Jace, Clary's boyfriend, and you can let go of her now."

Will's fingers dropped from her waist as he wheeled to face her, eyes wide. She suspected the gesture was more from shock than because Jace had asked him to. "Her boyfriend? Clary, you're dating him?"

His voice, Clary noted, was a weird mix of hurt and astonished.

"Yeah, uh…Jace and I have been together since Idris." She mumbled, half coherent, a bit taken aback herself at his reaction.

"Wow," Will said, looking between them, "It's just, I thought…wow."

"Thought what?" Jace asked, reaching out to snag Clary's hand. The shoulders of his shirt had started smoking.

"Jace…" She warned.

He closed his eyes and sighed. In a moment, the smoke was gone, but the betrayal in his eyes was just as strong when he looked at her. "Clary, who is he?"

"Will and I have known each other since we were kids," She replied, voice strong. She glanced at Will, who was starting to look extremely uncomfortable. "I never knew he was a Shadowhunter, but he's still one of my best friends. I'm sorry I never told you about him, it's just…with everything that's been going on, it never really came up."

Jace looked between the two of them, trying to gauge their relationship for himself. Will smiled again, a little bit smaller and more sympathetic this time.

"Hey," Will started, seeing an opportunity to mend things quickly. "I was going to see if Clares wanted to grab dinner with me and Simon and Ceals, you can tag along if you like. I'm sorry about my reaction earlier, I guess I was just surprised Clary had landed herself a boyfriend while I was gone. It was a bit unexpected."

Jace hesitated, but by then, Izzy was next to him, wrapping her arm around his waist with a smile. "Sure," She purred. "We'd love to come."

Will beamed, but already, Clary's heart was feeling uneasy, like if she were watching the Titanic set sail and knowing that it was inevitably going to hit an iceberg, but Will was already tugging on her hand to pull her into the elevator and Jace was already stepping in next to her, and by then it was too late.


	3. Chapter 3

On the way to the restaurant, Will called Simon and Celia, who evidently was another friend of their's and directed them to meet them at a restaurant called the Valkyrie. It felt weird for Jace to watch all these little pieces of Clary's life that he had never known about fall into place. He didn't know what to do with himself, so he checked his phone, called Alec, left a brief message. He hadn't heard from his _parabatai_ in a few days, but he wasn't terribly concerned; Magnus had almost died, after all. Alec was probably just spending time with him.

Across the subway car that he had been dragged on to by a well-humored Will and Clary, some girls were looking at him and gigging. Once, it wouldn't have bothered him as much, but now he stepped closer to Clary and ducked his head to tuck his cheek to her hair. It was grounding; a reminder of all they had survived, side by side, and all they would face together still.

"Hey," Clary said, turning around to kiss him quickly. 'What's up?"

"Nothing," He replied. "Just thinking about how much I love you."

She smiled. "I love you too."

"Sometimes," Izzy proclaimed as they slid into the stop, "You two are so cute you're almost frame-able. Almost," she finished, eyes twinkling. 

The corners of Will's mouth flicked up in a smile, but his eyes were sad. He didn't comment on Clary and Jace, but he nodded at the opening doors. "This is us."

The night air that greeted them as they came up the stairs from the station was brisk and chilly, promising a frigid December, but Will tilted his head back, savoring the evening and the cacophony of sounds that made up life in the city.

"I forgot how much I missed this," he said, turning back to face Clary.

She laughed and skipped ahead to loop her arm through his. "How was Italy?"

He chuckled in response and ducked his head to talk to her and then his words were lost to Jace. Beside him, Izzy came up and draped her arm across his waist; he instinctively raised his own arm to drop across her shoulders, an instinct that had been bred into him after years of living with Isabelle as siblings. She leaned her head on his shoulder as they trailed after Clary and Will, watching the reunion of the two old friends.

"It's weird, knowing that Clary had a whole other piece of her life she never told us about." Izzy said, not really surprised, but commenting on the situation and waiting for Jace to fill in his opinion.

"Why do you think she never told us?" he asked.

"Probably because she didn't think it was important. She's a Shadowhuner now and she never really thought that they would…"

"Fit into her new life?" He finished.

Izzy nodded. "I like him though." She said. "They suit each other."

Jace squinted at the figures ahead of him, trying to discern what trait it was that Izzy saw in Will that he couldn't. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "I don't know it's just kinda ineffable, you know? Like you and Alec. They balance each other out."

"Izzy," He said. "You've barely known him twenty minutes."

"Still," she replied. "I can see it. He means a lot to her." She glanced up at him quickly. "You'll remember that if you don't want to cause trouble with her."

He scoffed, still watching the two ahead. "Clary and I have been through too much together for _one guy_ to get in the way. If there's any trouble, I'm sure we can work it out."

Izzy shrugged and pulled away. "You say that now, but you'd be surprised. You've seen what Clary's willing to do for Simon. How far do you think she'd go for Will? And who do you think she'd put first? You? Or him?"

"Izzy…" He groaned.

"Food for thought, food for thought. Look, we better catch up before we lose them. I think we're almost there anyways."

They hurried to reach Clary and Will as they crossed the street. On the other side, they were met by Simon, who grinned broadly when he saw Will. They hugged just as tightly as Will and Clary had back at the institute. When they separated, Will chuckled, hand dragging back through his hair.

"Good to see you, man. How's the band?"

"Great, awesome, actually. We played a few gigs while you were gone. Wish you could've come, but come on; Ceals' is inside and she's getting antsy with me."

"Because it's you're fault you two got here before us." Clary laughed.

"Exactly!"

Will dragged open the door to the corner restaurant. It was a huge box of a building, but inside it was warm and spacious. Simon jogged up the steps leading to a promenade-style balcony the ringed the walls. The sides were lined with chipped wooden tables and black vinyl booths, some occupied, some not. It wasn't Taki's, but it was still nice.

Izzy had slipped up to walk next to Simon and together, they led the way to the end of the row.

'What do they serve here?" she asked, looking down on the main floor, filled as it was with tables. A bar lined the far wall and a few people were sitting there while the bartender wiped up. The other walls were filled with more booths.

'Everything." Simon said, sliding into a booth next to a girl with short, wavy dark hair.

"And it's always good," Will added, slipping in on the other side. Clary followed him, and then Jace. The girl next to Simon very noticeably checked him out. "Hello, gorgeous." She muttered.

Clary chuckled. "Jace, this is Celia. Celia, Jace. Jace is my boyfriend."

Celia leaned across the table, presenting her hand to him to shake. She kept her eyes fixed on him even as she said to Clary: "Well, if you ever get tired of him, let me know."

Clary smiled. "Not likely. You can shake her hand, you know." She added, glancing at him.

Jace looked between the carefully manicured hand and the grey-eyes face that offered it. She reminded him of a fox. Or a cat. "I'm good."

Celia smirked, but retracted her hand. Before Clary, he would have been flirting with her so quickly her head spun, but now something about her just made him vaguely uncomfortable. Celia, Jace decided, would be one to keep a careful eye on.

This thought was only enforced when she turned and planted a kiss on Simon's mouth. Her unsuspecting victim had been watching the proceedings with a vague hint of amusement, but he started back as Celia turned her attention on him.

Not yet sitting, Izzy's jaw almost hit the floor. "Excuse me," She said, voice barely controlling her shock and rage, "That's my boyfriend."

When she pulled away from a very stunned Simon, she turned to face Isabelle. "You must be Izzy, then." She beamed. "Si here has told me so much about you. Pleasure to finally meet you. I'm glad he finally found someone good enough for him."

Isabelle dropped into the booth next to Simon, anger and astonishment struggling to rule her face. "Good enough for him?" She sputtered.

"Yes, and when I saw you and made the connection that you were Isabelle I was so proud I had to kiss him. I'd kiss you too, but you're too far away. Maybe later."

"No," Simon finally piped up from between them. "No, Celia, I don't think that will be necessary."

Celia elegantly dropped one shoulder in a shrug. "Her loss. Now, what are you getting? I'm thinking a nice, juicy burger. I have had enough pasta and enough fish and chips and enough fine cuisine to last me a life time. I need some good old American grease."

"Umm…" Simon hestitated, clearly uncertain on how to confess that he was a vampire now. For once, though, Jace jumped in, pitying him.

"She's a Shadowhunter, Lewis."

Simon, it seemed, couldn't get a break. His eyes widened, aghast. "Wait—Celia? What?" he looked around at his tablemates, pleading that someone would explain.

"Simon's a vampire," Clary filled in, looking at Celia.

Celia's mouth formed in 'O' in response, but she kept studying the menu.

"Ceals and I are Shadowhunters," Will finally admitted. "We never told you guys because…Shadowhunters and well, Clary's mom would have killed us."

Simon blinked. "But we went to school together."

"My mom wanted me to be familiar with mundies, so I'd understand what we were fighting for, and Celia's parents, they, uh…they just didn't like the Lightwoods, so they stuck Celia and I together because I was the lesser of two evils."

"Basically the options of who Ky and I could be friends with was Will and a bunch of mundies or the treacherous Lightwoods. Will won, no contest."

Izzy frowned. "Wait—why don't your parents like us?"

Helllooo," Celia said, leaning around to look at them. "Circle members."

"Oh," Izzy said, slumping a little. "Yeah, I guess there's that."

"Hey" Will said. "By my mom's book, you're alright. The Cieliserenis are just a little…"

"Hardcore?" Simon finished. "I'm not even one of you, and I know that."

"We're also Catholic," Celia grumbled.

"Maybe that's why," Clary pointed out.

Celia shrugged, half in agreement to this. "Now," she said. "Are we going to order anything or what?"


	4. Chapter 4

Magnus walked into his loft apartment and looked around. Talking to Alec today had been hard, one of the hardest things he had ever done. He closed his eyes. At least after today, he wouldn't have to face the heartache. At least now he and Tessa could get out while they still could; nothing was holding them back anymore. Walking towards his room, he pulled out his cell and started typing in her number. He glanced up and sighed. Alec's stuff still was placed in the corners of the room, where he had left it.

"Alexander," he hissed. So Alec had forgotten to come by. Maybe Magnus shouldn't have told him that he still loved him. It might have given the boy the wrong idea. He sat down on the floor, leaned against the foot of the bed, and closed his eyes. Maybe Alec would show up later. Magnus had hoped that he wouldn't have to face him again, but sometimes unpleasantness couldn't avoided. Chairman Meow came over and Magnus absentmindedly scratched behind his cat's ears. In the end, it was always just him and the cat.

The next day came and went. Magnus tried not to move. He had resolved himself to stop moving so he could focus all his energies on healing and not thinking about Alexander, who, coincidentally, still hadn't shown up. Magnus really hoped he wasn't sulking or refusing to come out of spite. That was just rude.

By the end of the third day, Magnus was stiff. Alec had generally seemed to be the kind of person who would come through and do something in the end when he was asked, or could clearly see that there was no alternative solution, no matter how unpleasant that problem might be. He opened one eye and then the other. Chairman Meow was asleep in his lap. The orange light of the setting sun was bleeding through the window but, besides that bit of light, the room was filled with dark, murky shadows. Stiffly, Magnus stood up and stretched. He padded barefoot over towards the kitchen, dialing in Alec's number as he pulled open the door of the refrigerator to see if there was any food. There was nothing there but weeks old leftovers, which he dumped into the trash. On the phone, he was sent to voicemail. He shook his head.

"Pick up the phone, Alexander." He redialed and sat down on the couch, turning on the TV with a flick of his fingers. The Chairman regarded him from the hallway door. Magnus glared at the cat, which he swore was looking at him as if to ask where the missing boyfriend was.

"I'm sorry I just can't be as awesome as he was." Magnus muttered sarcastically in reply then cringed. Now he was talking to the cat, and besides, it wasn't like what happened was the its fault.

The Chairman blinked at him for a moment before turning to walk away. Voicemail again. Magnus redialed and redialed, but that was all he ever got. Annoyed, he punched in Isabelle's number. If anyone would know where her brother was, it would be her.

"Magnus!" Isabelle exclaimed, way to perkily, considering what had happened. In the background, he could hear people talking and plates clinking together. He wondered, distantly, if she was out with her brothers at Taki's.

"How have you been?" She continued.

Magnus wanted to keep the frustration out of his voice, but knew he was failing. "Isabelle, why hasn't your brother come by to pick up his stuff yet? I told him to do it days ago!"

Isabelle sounded confused. "What do you mean, 'pick up his stuff'? Did something happen? Isn't he with you?"

Magnus was exasperated. "Isabelle, we broke up, why would he be with me?" Magnus was suddenly restless, something felt wrong, but he couldn't place his finger on what…

On the other end of the line, Isabelle was silent. "Magnus," She said quietly, "Alec hasn't been home in days. We all just assumed that he was with you."

Magnus felt his heart turn to ice as he stopped his pacing. "What do you mean 'he hasn't been home'? Isabelle, where else would he be?"

Isabelle sounded very, very afraid, and very, very small. "I—I don't know. Magnus, when did you last see him?"

Magnus closed his eyes and started counting back mentally. "Two-no three days ago. He was…" Magnus trailed off as the realization of what could have happened hit him like a sucker punch to the stomach.

"What, Magnus? He was what?"

Magnus' eyes dashed, unseeing, around the apartment, looking for what, he didn't know. "The only reason he wouldn't be home." He said, his voice matching the tone found in Isabelle's. "Camille." He hissed. "Oh, I'm going to kill her."

"Magnus stop, just calm down. Where was he? Jace and I and everyone else will go after them and I'll get mom to assemble the conclave. What does Camille have to do with any of this? Do you think she hurt him or something?"

Magnus sank down against a wall. "The City Hall subway station. She has a…lair there. He was going to the city hall subway station to meet her." He left off the part about how he had left Alec there. For some reason, he didn't want Izzy to know about that.

"Why was he—? You know what, never mind. I'll call you later, Magnus. Don't do anything rash."

Isabelle hung up, but Magnus was barely paying attention, the numbness had spread throughout his limbs and down to his bones and all he could do was sit and let his gaze dart around the landscape of the room in a search for answers that couldn't be found.

[][][]

After Isabell hung up, she stared blankly at the Valkyrie's bar for a few minutes. It was Friday night. Departed night, Clary had jokingly told her when she had extended the invite to she and Jace earlier that day. That's what Clary called her friends, and the night Isabelle had met them, the night she had been out having fun meeting new people, Alec had been attacked by a vampire. Her stomach rolled at the thought of it. She should have checked in with him, should have, at some point during the last few days, made a better effort to get in touch with him. When she and Jace had called, they'd both assumed their brother had been busy taking care of Magnus. Jace—he'd be devastated.

"Izzy!" Simon was calling to her from the steps leading up to the balcony. He voice was teasing, the question of why she was standing numbly in the doorway implied. When she turned to look at him, though, phone squeezed tightly in her hand, the humor went out of his expression.

"Izzy?" He asked, concerned. He raced down the last few steps of the stairway to grip her elbows. "What is it?" he asked, peering into her eyes. "What's wrong."

She blinked, as if she was finally registering that he was there. "Alec—"

Understanding dawned on his face. "What is it? What happened to him?"

"Cammile. Magnus thinks she attacked him."

He was pulling her up the stairs, towards the group. "Where?"

"City Hall subway stop"

Simon was practically dragging her towards the table. When they arrived, Clary looked up, still laughing from some joke that Will had just told her. Like Simon, however, her smile died when she saw that something was wrong. They question had barely formed on her lips before Simon was laying everything down. Izzy, once she had gained her senses a little bit more, interjected firmly.

"We have to go _now._ Every minute we waste— " She paused to swallow down a lump that had started to rise in her throat this year. She had lost one brother, almost lost a second, and now she could lose Alec too. It was almost too much to handle. Almost.

Jace, next to Clary, looked furious. He dragged himself out of the booth first. "Then come on, Izzy," He said. "Let's go get him."

Clary, then Will, followed him onto the promenade, but Celia moved a little slower.

"Look," She said. "I don't know your brother, Izzy, but are we sure that that's where he is? With Camille? How do we know that Magnus is telling the whole truth? How does he know where Camille is? How does he know that's where Alec was heading? Why wasn't he with your brother?"

"Celia!" Will interjected, horrified. "We have to help! Shadowhunter down! Every second we waste could cost him his life!"

Celia wheeled on him. "You think I don't know that, Will? You think I could forget, after what happened to Ky? But if we rush in blind without asking the right questions, then we'll just get hurt too."

Isabelle growled, annoyed at the delay. "Look, Miss Prissy, you can stand here debating the facts all you want. I'm going after my brother because if I don't go, no one will."

She started strutting away, Jace behind her. Clary hesitated next to her friends.

"Wait," Clary shouted.

Jace spun around to face her. "Don't tell me you're buying into this!" He shouted when he realized that she had stayed behind.

Clary waivered. "Celia has a point. Why was Alec even going to see Camille? It doesn't add up Jace, you have to realize this."

"Clary," He pleaded. "Alec could be dying."

"I know, but I'm also worried about you and Izzy rushing in without thinking about things. And think about it, Jace, you guys don't even have any gear or anything. Take a minute to think. I can draw us a portal to the Institute and then to the station, but you need to _think,_ ok? I'm not ready to lose you."

He looked away, frustration evident in the set of his jaw, but the slump of his shoulders suggested that Clary had won him over. "Isabelle," he called softly, then ran to catch up with her.

Clary looked at her friends. Celia looked irritated with everyone and the conflict was written clearly on Will's face.

"We should go help them." He said quietly. "Celia?"

The other girl was still quietly fuming. "They're going to get us killed," She muttered.

Will sighed. "Not if we're careful. Clary's gotten them to slow down a bit, but you're right about us being blind, will you…?"

Celia's jaw dropped, outraged. "If you think I'm going to pull Ky into this and send him out there alone, you're crazy. I know he says he's fine nowadays, Will, but he's lying and he knows even less than we do about what's going on! I tell him to go be a scout for us, he dies!"

"Then go with him," Clary snapped. "Look, Ceals, I don't know what happened to Ky because I wasn't in the loop then, but you can't just keep him sidelined forever. I know you two are close, but you can't protect him from everything, and right now, we need his help. Alec has done a lot to help and protect us, especially me and Simon when you two weren't here, and even if things look sketchy, I can't just hold back in going after him. Go get you're brother and go help him. Please, Celia. Please."

When Clary finished, Celia looked like she had been slapped in the face. "Fine," She snapped. "But if this goes wrong—"

"The you'll never forgive me, I get it. Now come on, we don't have a lot of time."


	5. Chapter 5

Alec knew nothing outside of his pain. It was beyond imagination. Maureen had jumped at him and he had done his best to fight back, to run, but she had overcome him. He didn't know what it was about new vampires that made them so powerful, so undefeatable. She had caught him on the platform, then dragged him back upstairs, and fed on his blood. Camille had taken his blood once, he remembered. It had hurt while at the same time being pleasant. This had been an agonizing torture. Maureen had taken a lot of his blood, but not so much that he wouldn't survive. He lay on the floor, blood soaking his clothes and hair, unable to move he was so weak, drifting in and out of consciousness. He didn't know how long it had been since he had seen Magnus. An hour? A day? A week? Surely someone would notice his absence eventually. Surely someone would come…

[][][]

Celia threw the door of her family's brownstone and rushed through the door. She had already texted Ky with a brief idea of what was going on while she and her friends planned a more definite course of action. Then, Clary had drawn her a portal to the home on the upper east side before drawing a second one that Celia and her brother, Ky, could use to scout ahead once they were ready. After that, the red head had disappeared and Celia had been left on her own.

"KY!" She shouted "AMEDEO MACHAI CIELISERENI!"

Ky's head appeared over the railing on the top floor. From the entrance hall, Celia could see that he was already half dressed in gear, although he still had on a faded green t-shirt for the wildly unpopular St. Xavier math team, of which Ky had been a part for several years. His brown hair, curling a little more than normal with sweat, frazzled about his head like a halo.

 _"Per amor del cielo, Cecelia!"_ He shouted back _"Basta!_ I heard you the first time, now tell me again, what happened?"

Celia smiled briefly at her brother's speech, peppered as always with the family's native Italian, but just as quickly, she was down to business, racing up the steps to her room to grab her gear while explaining, quickly, what the situation was.

In a few minutes, they were together again on the landing of the second floor, dressed in gear and armed with the customary knives they had both favored since they were children. Together, they rushed down the steps and out the door, pausing only a moment as Ky, ever the responsible one, stopped to make sure the door was locked.

"Do you think he's alright?" Celia asked her brother as he rattled the lock.

Ky hesitated, but he didn't respond, only grabbed her arm and shoved her through the portal as quickly as he could, grim faced.

[][][]

"Hello, my pretty." Maureen's voice flittered down to Alec. She had left a little while earlier to do Angel knew what and Alec had been holding out the hope that she would forget about him and not come back. Apparently, he wasn't so lucky.

He couldn't respond beyond a groan and a flutter of his lashes, he was so weak. Why did she want him? Why did she keep him? At first, Alec had longed for a stele and an Iratze, now he just longed for a death that would end this misery sooner rather than late. He wished he could laugh at the irony of it, but laughing hurt too much now, took too much effort. First he had worried about dying before Magnus, then Magnus almost died before him, and now he was going to die when it wouldn't even matter.

Alec missed Magnus and the only reason he had stopped trying to fight was because the pain of what Maureen was doing to him almost covered up the pain of what Magnus did to him. Maureen helped him forget. He liked her for that. Maybe she would help him forget so much he wouldn't have to remember at all, just drift calmly, blissfully, in the shadows of dark that wrapped him up so often.

He felt her cold vampire hands brush aside his hair. Magnus had done that once, many times, but his hands had been warm, and Alec had always felt the underlying buzz of magic.

 _Just bite me, already,_ Alec thought. _Stop with the formalities and let in the hurt._

She clucked. "You don't look so pretty, my pretty." She laughed at her little joke. "Don't worry though, pretty. I won't need you much longer. I'm getting stronger already. Look."

She squeezed Alec's arm on one of the many places where she'd been biting him, and he gasped in pain. He wanted to scream, to scream and yell and shout until his voice went hoarse, but he no longer had the strength or the will to do so.

She loosed her grip and brushed his cheek with her hand. He could feel the blood on it, his blood. "Then that meanie Raphael won't be able to say no to me anymore. Then I can kill him." She laughed. "That'll be nice. I can paint the walls with his blood. It's a pretty red."

She was crazy, Alec knew this. It made sense. He had done a report once on how vampires who were changed when they were younger were often more dangerous because they didn't have the same sense of restraint an adult might show. Maureen was dangerous; she was planning on killing the New York vampire clan for rightly refusing to let her in, but Alec didn't care. All he wanted was for her to decide what to do with him so he could lose himself to unconsciousness or get lost in pain. Just son long as she chose quickly, Alec would be happy.

Maureen stopped her soft-spoken speech for a moment. Alec sensed, rather than saw, her look up, towards the door. Faintly, he heard voices, or was it just a voice? Perhaps it was Magnus? A pang went through his heart, and Alec quickly shut the thought down. Magnus had walked out on him. Magnus was never coming back. It was probably just wistful thinking. Alec's body slumped in the vampire girl's arms, and she set him down, although not very gently. A dull ache rattled through Alec's body.

He heard her stand up and move slowly towards the door. He could practically picture her; head tilted a little to the side as she stepped, uncaring, through the pools of blood that covered the floor.

"I'll be back in just a moment, my pretty. Don't worry. Just a moment, that's all."

If Alec could have, he would've sighed. Black, a shade not much different in coloring, but rather in temperament, over took him. He slid back into the dark sleep of unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

Ky dropped down onto the platform and looked around. He could see how, once, this stop must have been beautiful, but now it wasn't much, just a few discolored tiles, scraps of garbage, and scuffed up dust. The perfect place, he thought, for a vampire hideout. Beauty wasted away to rot. Behind him, he heard Celia hit the ground like a cat and straighten up.

"Ky," She said, an edge to her voice, "Look. Blood."

Ky turned around and there it was, streaks of the stuff, and footprints, as if someone had gone bathing in it and walked out without washing off their feet. It covered the walls, too, like some macabre child had colored there with bright red paint. It was disturbing, to say the least. Ky lifted his eyes, and before them there appeared a staircase and a doorway in the wall. Obviously, it had once been glamored, but that glamor had since been neglected. In the shadows of the doorway, standing a few steps up, was the slim figure of a girl. Ky walked slowly toward her, wary.

"Come here. Let me get a look at you." He said, speaking like one might talk to a frightened animal.

A twinkling laugh that reminded Ky of Tinkerbelle echoed around the platform as the girl came forward into their sight.

She was wearing a t-shirt with a unicorn on it, and a long, red scarf. She was obviously the child who had painted here for her hands and arms were covered in blood. It was smeared on her face and stained her T-shirt. With a sickening lurch, Ky realized that the scarf hadn't originally been the crimson it was now, but had been stained by countless messy feedings. Blood spattered her pants as well, soaking through at her knees, as if she'd been kneeling in the stuff.

Celia made a small sound of disgust, and Ky narrowed his eyes, partially in annoyance with his sister, partially in agreement with her.

The girl laughed again. "You're shadowhunters. Like Alec. Like My Pretty. But he won't be around much longer, oh no." Her eyes got very wide. Ky half-expected her pupils to be dilated like the cartoons of crazy people he had so often seen as a child. "He's getting weaker and I'm getting stronger. He's going to die soon. So kind. So kind to give his life for me." She laughed again and shivers ran up and down Ky's spine.

"Why don't you let me see him, alright? If you don't need him anymore, we'll take him off your hands." He said, edging a little closer. "What's your name?"

She grinned, showing her needle-like incisors. "I'm Maureen. I'm Simon's Maureen. And I can't let you see him." She pouted. "Then you'd take him away. You'd take My Pretty away from me."

Ky stopped. " _Simon_? Simon _Lewis_?" He asked, skeptism filling his voice. He knew Simon well and Maureen's name seemed vaguely familiar, but the connection between Simon and a hostage shadowhunter seemed slim to him at best.

Maureen nodded. "But that doesn't matter. I killed Camille. I'm going to be the head of the vampire clan now. I'm going to kill Raphael Santiago."

Ky's blood felt icy in his veins. "Why?" He whispered.

Maureen titled her head like if she was some possessed doll. "Because I want to. Why else does anyone do anything, silly?"

Ky swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry, but before he had any time to react further, Celia had flung a knife at Maureen.

"You _madcap_!" Celia exclaimed.

Maureen dodged the knife and hissed at Celia. Celia flung herself at the slender girl, throwing the two of the off the platform and onto the tracks. Ky looked over the edge at his sister nd hesitated. He could drop down and help her, or go searching for the likely doomed Alec Lightwood.

"Ky!" Celia grunted. He heard a smack as someone was thrown against a well, then Celia's voice came again, more clearly this time. "Go get Alec, I can take care of her."

On the tracks below, he could see his sisters eyes gleam up at him briefly before she turned her head to look back at some shadowy corner where she had thrown Maureen. "Go!" She urged again. "I got this!"

He nodded before he rushed up the steps, diving into the dark interior of the room above.

[][][]

Mayrse stood at the desk in the library, stunned. Carlyn, a little off to her side, was caught in a similar state. Before the two mothers stood Jace, Isabelle, Will, and Clary. The four of them had portalled to the Institute only minutes before and had wasted no time trying to find help.

"Alec is _what_?" Maryse asked, incredulous.

Isabelle made a noise of impatience. "Missing, last seen by Magnus about to visit Camille at the City Hall subway stop. Ky and Celia are already there, but they need our help _right now_."

The two women stared blankly at the teenagers for a few heartbeats longer, disbelief dominating their face and stupefaction halting their movements.

"Right now, as in this instant," Isabelle repeated.

Carlyn drew herself up. She looked at Mayrse, "Call the conclave. I'll take these four to go back up the Cielisereni children ahead of you; from the sounds of things, they'll need it, and we don't have time to wait."

Mayrse nodded. She was coming to respect her co-worker's opinion greatly and already counted her as a trusted friend. Quickly, she picked up the red phone and started dialing the conclave's number.

"Have either of you been there, or to the park?" Mayrse asked, phone held to her ear as she waited for the call to connect. Isabelle and Jace shook their heads, but Clary and Will looked almost sheepish.

Carlyn sighed. "These two have, plenty of times when they were younger. Clary, draw us a portal so we can go help. Everyone else, pull on some gear, quickly. And grab some for Clary too."

Clary ran to the wall to do as she'd been asked, everyone else rushing to follow their own respective orders as well.

[][][]

Alec was dreaming of Magnus. In the dream, he was standing in the foyer of Magnus' apartment building, Magnus was leaning over the railing of the landing a floor up.

"Alexander," He said, exasperated. "Where do you think you're going?"

Alec looked at the door. Something about it those writhing black shadows didn't look right, but Alec just wasn't in the mindset to determine what.

Alec turned back to Magnus, confused by the question. "Out, obviously."

Magnus frowned. "But you can't go just yet, Alec. I still need you."

Alec walked towards Magnus a little. "But you left me," Alec said, gesturing out with his arm, pointing out what Magnus was so blatantly ignoring.

Magnus sighed. "But that doesn't mean I want you to leave so soon."

It was Alec's turn to frown. "That's hardly fair, Magnus. You can't just abandon me and say you want me back. That's just…no." He shook his head.

Magnus closed his eyes. He looked tired. Alec's forehead creased. He should be in bed; he should be resting from the wound he had gotten in the battle with Sebastian. Not out here arguing.

"I was losing you. You broke my heart, Alexander. You didn't trust me. But that doesn't mean I want you to _go_ go."

Alec scoffed. "I wanted to trust you, you just never opened up, and I had to lie there and wonder. I told you everything about myself and what did you tell me? Nothing! Did you really just expect me to accept that?"

Magnus looked at him, eyes full of sorrow. "I suppose I did."

Alec shook his head. "It doesn't work like that, Magnus. Love is a two-way street. I give a little, you give a little."

Magnus leaned forward urgently. "If I said that I'd give us another try, would you promise me that you wouldn't go? Would you stay for me Alec? I still need you. I need you to be strong for me."

Alec shook his head, already walking backwards towards the shadowy door, his eyes glued on Magnus' terrified face. "I'm sorry, Magnus. But you were right. We just can't work."

Alec turned to face the door. He took a deep breath, preparing himself, for some reason; he didn't know what, for what lay on the other side.

Behind him, Magnus screamed. "Alexander!" He sounded like if Alec was about to throw himself off a cliff, but Alec was beyond listening, it was best to get out of here while he still could.


	7. Chapter 7

Ky looked around the dim room, raising up his witchlight to see. Puddles of dark red liquid covered the floor, turning a deep maroon or dirty brown in some places. It was all over the floor, most especially on a divan that was placed in the center of the room. The body of a dead vampire, eons old, judging from its shriveled state, lay close to his feet, but that wasn't what interested him. On the floor next to the divan was a body, still young, and covered in runes, its torn blue pea coat smeared and soaked with scarlet. Pulse hammering in his throat, Ky slowly moved forward, doing his best to ignore the worst of the thick fluid on the floor.

[][][]

Clary dropped onto the platform, Will on her heels, just moments after Jace and Isabelle. Carlyn jumped down as well, and looked around. They all turned their heads as one as the heard a shout from below them, coming from the tracks. Together, Clary and Will ran and leaped down. They knew that voice, would recognize it anywhere. It was Celia, the only person it could be. Heedless of the ruts and tracks snaking unseen across the ground, Clary sprinted down the tunnel and towards noise that had echoed from it. Will moved, sleek as a panther, a witchlight stone held high in his hands, while Carlyn and the Lightwoods followed a little behind.

[][][]

Celia slammed into the wall, pinned in place by the unprecedented strength of Maureen's skinny arms. She vaguely remembered seeing the other girl at a few of Simon's gigs, but she had never paid much attention to her. How old had she been when she'd been turned? Twelve? Thirteen? Fourteen? She was so tiny. No one would ever expect her to be the atrocious monster she was.

She thought back to what she and Clary had been like at that age. They too, perhaps, had been a little bit violent, often unexpectedly so, but they had never dreamt of taking things this far. With a shout, Celia brought her knees up and pushed her boots into the newly turned Vampire girl's stomach, using all her force to propel Maureen away and herself up. She swung her body up, kicked off the ceiling with one leg, and landed in a crouch behind where Maureen should have been. She straightened up and looked around though, confused.

Maureen wasn't there.

Then that laugh sounded, that crazy, hair raising laugh that sounded like church bells with a disturbing ring to them, as if they were just a little bit off tune. Painstakingly slowly, Celia turned her head. Maureen stood a little farther along the line, draped in shadows.

"Did you really think you could beat me?" She giggled, raising her blood stained hand to her mouth. "Oh, silly shadowhunter, silly Nephilim. You can't beat me. I'm too strong for you, I killed Camille! I'm the head of the Vampire clan!"

Celia drew a final knife out of her belt with a single, violent motion. This girl was making her mad, and anger was already twisting her face in a sneer. "I don't care who you are or what you did. I can kill you. I _will_ kill you."

Maureen laughed and spun around a little. "Is that what you've been trying to do? Kill me?" She stopped and looked at Celia with a suddenly serious expression. "You're not doing a very good job, are you?"

Celia roared, flinging the knife with all her strength, putting as much momentum and force behind the throw as she could. She felt it leave her hand, watched it go sailing, end over end, through the air. It would strike home; hit the stick of a girl right in the throat, just where Celia had aimed.

Maureen dodged, gracefully and with all the ease of a dancer preforming an often practiced move, a hair's breath out of the way of where Celia had predicted she would move. Maureen looked at her and tilted her head strangely towards Celia, like a puppet whose strings had suddenly been let loose, eyes wide, and a slight, eerie smile on her face. "I do believe that was your last knife. How are you going to kill me now?"

Celia resisted the urge to stop her foot like a child. Her knives never missed. She had spent hours training she was a kid to send them hurtling through the air like she had just done, like she had done so many times before. That throw had been perfect, and she never, ever missed. It bothered her that some stupid little newly turned… _fledgling…_ had evaded her.

Maureen suddenly looked up, lips parted in bewilderment. Celia knew it was against everything she had been trained to do, but she turned around to see what had shocked Maureen.

A glimmer of white, like a star pulled down from the night sky and placed in someone's clutching grasp. The light lit up a determined face framed by black hair, and a glint of red fire next to him. Will and Clary, come to the rescue, just like always.

She turned around to face Maureen, to laugh at the other girl for assuming she had won the fight in her own favor so quickly then stopped. The slender blond haired girl was no longer cut out from the shadows of the tunnel beyond. She was gone, vanished like the dust from which she had come.

[][][]

Clary and Will reached Celia, panting.

"Where'd she go?" Clary asked, glancing around.

Celia gestured down the tunnel. "Who knows. Away from here, little coward. She should have faced me."

Will looked over at her. "Celia, you're unarmed."

Celia crossed her arms. "Shut up, Willim. I knew you were coming. I would've been able to hold her off."

Will raised his eyebrows. "How?"

"I have teeth too, don't I? And besides, I've been trained to fight."

Will chuckled as Jace and Isabelle ran up, Carlyn right behind them.

"Well?" Jace asked. "She's not here. Nor is Alec."

Will raised his witchlight and started walking farther down the tunnel. "I don't know about Alec, but as for our Vampire? It would appear she's gone down the rabbit hole, so to speak. It'll be next to impossible to find her now."

[][][]

Ky knelt down next to the black haired boy. There were streaks of blood on his face, fresh ones, and he was bleeding from just about everywhere. Despite himself, Ky reached out and touched the boy's cheek, his neck, looking for a pulse, a breath. He was very handsome, that much was undeniable, even in his current state. Ky closed his eyes, trying to remember what Celia had said the boy's name was. Alec. Alec Lightwood.

Ky pulled out his stele. "Alec," he said, "Come on. Wake up. I've got you." As gently as he could, Ky placed an Iratze on his throat, looking around for more places where he might need one. Alec groaned.

"Magnus?" He rasped.

"Sorry." Ky said, "No. But I am here to help." He turned around, facing back towards the doorway. "Celia!" he screamed, "I found him!"


	8. Chapter 8

Ky leaned against the wall outside the infirmary. After he had called, Jace, Alec's _parabatai_ , had come running, pushing Ky aside and looking over his brother with a kindness and efficiency only know between those who had such bonds. Ky had stepped back; he knew that he was no longer needed. He had met Celia outside, who had explained that Carlyn and the rest of the conclave had gone after Maureen, who had run away though the tunnels. Will and Clary had then helped them portal back to the institute, at which point they had sent an urgent call to the Silent Brothers, who, upon their arrival, had whisked Alec away, only allowing Jace to stay at his side. To be honest, Ky didn't know why he was still around.

"He's going to be alright, by the way." Ky looked up. He hadn't heard Isabelle approach.

He scrambled for something to say for a moment before settling on "That's good." Mentally, he kicked himself, but Isabelle didn't seem to notice anything wrong with the remark, she just nodded.

"Thank you, for finding him. I don't know what we would have done…" She trailed off, and Ky smiled.

"It was my pleasure to be able to help you. Any friend of the Departed is my friend, and it would seem that is what you are."

Isabelle's face twisted a little. "You're Departed?"

Ky laughed. "No, but my sister, Celia, is. I've been keeping an eye on the six of them since they were kids. I suppose it's sad, but they're all I really have in terms of friends."

Isabelle looked taken aback for a moment by his response, but then relaxed a little. "I can see it now, the family resemblance between you and Celia. You two look a lot alike."

Ky nodded. "Thanks." He said. "You and Alec, too."

Isabelle just looked at him like if he was a strange animal.

Ky was suddenly embarrassed, although he didn't know why. He was saved from having to comment further by Celia's appearance.

"You can go home, Ky. I'm going to go out with Will and Clary," She turned to Isabelle. "You can come too, if you want. I know how it can be, waiting like this, you want to stay, but at the same time you really need to get out, yeah?"

Ky chuckled. "No room for me, Ceals?"

Celia threw him a glance, mocking annoyance. "Ew. Why would we want you?" She said, the joking tone clear in her fake accent.

Isabelle looked hesitantly at him. "Are you sure, Celia?"

Ky waved his hand, gesturing that it was alright. "It's fine. I don't want to hang out with you and your weird friends anyways."

Celia stuck out her tongue at him and he replied in turn. He laughed and rubbed the top of her head with his hand, messing up her hair. "I was actually just about to head out to CAT. I'll see you tonight. Please, please be home at a reasonable hour."

Isabelle looked confused. "Cat?" She asked.

"CAT is my theater group," Ky explained. "Breaks up the monotony of training all the time."

Celia slid an arm around her brother. "Ky loves acting. If he wasn't a shadowhunter, he'd act his pants off. He'd go to Hollywood. Everywhere he went, people wouldn't be able to not love him, because he'd just be that awesome."

Ky disentangled himself from Celia's grasp. "But I don't have that option, so I pursue my love for drama in a youth company. We're doing an original work soon, and tryouts are today." He kissed Celia's forehead and looked at Isabelle. "I'm glad your brother is going to be OK."

He walked away, waving, and Celia waved back, then turned to Isabelle. "He's not a bad guy, my brother. Not really. He's just had a rough couple of months."

Isabelle frowned. "The things you mentioned at the Valkyrie?"

Celia huffed, but she didn't meet Isabelle's eyes when she spoke. "Let's just say I know what it's like to wonder whether or not your brother is going to survive the night."

Isabelle scrunched his brows as means of a question, looking at Celia to explain more, but Celia never did. Will and Clary walked up, joking, as always, and Celia turned to them with a smile.

"Well, well, well, Willim."

Will grinned. "Celia, what are you 'well-ing' me about?"

She shrugged. "Wells can be used in terms of greeting."

Will smiled a little more and laughed. "Alright." He turned to Isabelle. "Are you coming with or not? We missed out on food earlier, and, seeing that there's nothing to be done here, we figured we'd get some now."

Isabelle looked at Clary. She had never seen the other girl look so confident, more in her element. Clary radiated an air of control over the situation, and for that first time since Magnus had called her, Isabelle felt calm. She felt happy for no reason, all of a sudden, standing here with these close friends who were obviously bubbling over with their love for one another, a happiness they, Isabelle suspected, would never be able to contain. It was as if just being around each other made them all more alive, and Isabelle was just starting to tap into that feeling. It was weird, but whereas before she had been weary of the Departed, the exclusivity it showed and the way it drew a side of Clary neither she nor Jace had ever seen before, she now felt different. They were friends, they were young, and they just wanted to live as only teenagers could live and they all helped each other to do that, and suddenly, Isabelle wanted in on it. She smiled.

"Sure, so long as you invite Simon."

Celia laughed. "We always invite the Si, he's the Lover, inviting him would remove all the love, and we can't remove the love, without the love there isn't anything worth living for at all."

Will looked at Celia funny. "That train of thought digressed quickly."

Celia frowned at him as they made their way towards the elevator. "Why would you say that? It's like saying that trains of thought have to make sense or go somewhere reasonable. Why can't my train of thought take me from loving my Lover the idea of Love as an actual entity that must exist to prevent Hate?"

Isabelle could practically see the doodly question marks coming out of Clary's head as they stepped on to the elevator. Clary was listening with a bemused expression, not unlike one Isabelle had often seen Jace wear, but obviously had no idea where the conversation was going.

Isabelle leaned over to her. "Is it always like this?"

Clary grinned, lightning quick and razor sharp. "Usually, yeah. There are a lot of rants that only one of us understands, and a lot of arguments based on those rants that have no meaning whatsoever. It makes for funny conversation though."

Isabelle nodded, doing her best to understand. "Why does she call Simon the Lover?"

Clary chuckled. "That's another story, a really long one, and we'd have to have a movie marathon to explain it well."

Isabelle looked at Clary like if she was crazy. "What?"

Clary shook her head. "Don't worry about it. It's just another nickname. You'll figure out the jokes eventually."

Isabelle pulled away and followed the threesome off the elevator and out the doors. They were strange, quirky didn't even begin to cover their dynamic, but at the same time, Isabelle was very aware of the fact that her entire life, her only real friends had ever been Jace and Alec. The whole concept of the Departed, of being part of them, was thrilling. With a smile, she slid after Celia into the back seat of the taxi Will managed to flag down. Somehow, despite everything, she knew this was going to be a whole new adventure.


	9. Chapter 9

Isabelle cracked open the door of the infirmary and peered her head around the corner. It was nearly midnight; she'd spent the remainder of the last hour or so with the Departed, leaving Jace to stay with Alec. Carefully she stepped in. It looked like her brothers were both sleeping, but Jace stirred as he heard he and sat up. He rubbed his eyes.

"Where've you been, Iz?"

She sat down at the foot of Alec's bad. He looked so pale and for a moment, Izzy questioned whether they had really ever saved him at all. "With the Departed. We went to get ice cream at this cute little twenty-four hour place they like." She handed Jace a dilly bar. "Clary recommended that I get you some. She sends her love."

Jace took the package and unwrapped his treat with a sad gaze. "That would explain everyone's sudden disappearance."

"Sorry we left without saying anything. We didn't want to bother you."

Jace nodded. "It's alright, I guess. It's just…hard to get used to the idea of Clary…"

"Having a life and friends outside of Simon and us?" Isabelle finished for him.

Jace didn't reply, just looked at her, and Isabelle knew that she was right. It had been hard for her to grasp too, that Clary and Simon weren't just…theirs, they belonged, first and foremost, to and with people who felt like complete strangers. Spending time with them this evening as they tried to get her mind off Alec, watching Simon laugh with Will, she had started to realize that she was only scratching the surface of what it meant to really know the Departed, or even Simon and Clary alone. It's like they had spent all this time being subdued versions of themselves and were only just letting their colors truly show.

"They're not bad people, you know."

Jace looked up at her, eyebrows raised, a question for clarification and elaboration painted neatly on his face.

"Will. Celia. The Departed. They're a good bunch of people." Isabelle smiled. "And they're _funny_."

Jace looked at her as if she was the funny one. "I thought we didn't like them."

Isabelle shrugged. "You may not, but I do. I don't know how to describe it. Just being with them is fun. Celia is a lot of fun. I like that girl. She has style."

Jace scrunched his brow. "Who?"

"The one that thought you were attractive."

"Izzy, everyone thinks I'm attractive. I can't help it, I'm gorgeous."

Isabelle laughed. "The dark haired one who kissed Simon."

Jace looked surprised. "I thought you were going to go after her with a vengeance previously unknown to the inhabitants of this planet for that."

"Why? She's not interested in Simon and Simon isn't interested in her. There's nothing to worry about."

Jace blinked. "Who are you and what have you done with my sister?"

Isabelle glared at him. "Your dilly bar is melting."

"Ah! Not my ice cream!" He rushed to lick the melted rivulets off his fingers then took a bite.

Isabelle watched. "You're strange."

Jace attacked the dilly bar with another ferocious bite. "Not as strange as you are."

Isabelle scoffed. "Celia was telling me about her brother, Ky."

"Again, who?"

"The guy who found Alec. He seems pretty cool. He likes to act. Celia's writing a play for his theater company."

"OK. So?"

"I'm just saying he sounds like an interesting guy."

Jace studied her. "Leaving Simon so soon? He'll be devastated."

Isabelle looked around for something she could throw at him, but came up empty handed, so she settled on just scowling at him. "No, I just thought—"

Alec groaned, and Jace dropped down to his _parabatai_ ' _s_ side.

"Alec?" He asked, brushing his brother's hair away from his face.

"I feel awful," came the reply.

Jace laughed. "You were attacked by a Vampire and almost bled to death, and you only feel awful?"

"Actually I—"

He was cut off by the entrance of Mayrse. She frowned at her daughter. "Isabelle. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Isabelle stared at her mother without moving. Mayrse sighed. "Has he woken yet?"

Jace looked up. "He just did. Why?" His eyes darted across her face, reading something there in tightness around her eyes and the tension in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

Behind Mayrse, Brother Zachariah glided in.

 _The Brothers only wanted to speak with him about his time with Maureen so that we could further understand what she is planning and be more able to act accordingly. But if he had only just awoken, I think perhaps we will withhold our conversation so that he can heal further._

Jace looked at the Brother. "Thank you. And actually," he looked back at Alec. "I think he just fell back asleep."

Brother Zachariah nodded. _That is good. He shall need his rest._ He turned back to Mayrse. _I will consider further the issues we addressed in the Library. Now if you don't mind, I think will depart for the night._

The Lightwoods watched as the Brother glided across the floor and out the door.

"I think I'll be off as well," Mayrse said. She walked over, and kissed her children on each of their foreheads before following after Brother Zachariah. Isabelle looked down at Jace, who hadn't even bothered moving back onto the other bed to sit. He leaned his back against the metal frame and stared at Alec.

"Do you think he's going to be alright, Iz, I mean, really alright?" He asked; his voice, for once, very small.

Isabelle studied the pair of them carefully. Jace looked, for once in his life, very, very defeated, and the thought that he was sent shivers down her spine. The only other time she had seen him looking so torn was after Alec had almost been killed by Abbadon. Isabelle didn't say anything; she knew Jace didn't actually expect her to.

On the bedside table, Alec's phone buzzed angrily, and the Lightwood children looked up, startled by the disruption. Slowly, Jace grabbed it and stared at the number before answering.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Has anyone found Alexander yet?" Magnus' voice bubbled out from the other end of the line.

Jace glanced at his brother. "Yes, no help to you. I thought you cared about him enough to come and find him when it seemed apparent that he might be _dead or dying_."

Isabelle looked up, astonished at the anger in Jace's voice.

"And if you knew that Camille was dangerous, and that Alec was going to see her, then why did you let him go there on his own?"

Magnus was evidentially shocked into silence, and Jace's face was hard as he continued. "Leave my brother alone."

He brought the phone down from his ear and snapped it shut, pulse pounding in his throat. After a moment, Isabelle dropped to the floor and sat down next to him. It was the only way she knew how to be near him and comfort him now.


	10. Chapter 10

Celia cracked open the door to the family townhome and shut it carefully behind her. The Lenox Hill streets had been quiet and sleepy, but she still worried the same couldn't be said for her own family. It was early, only seven o'clock, and she hadn't been home all night. After staying out getting ice cream with the Departed, she'd wandered around bit in the empty streets. She had meant to pop into the clubs and parties she so often haunted on lonely nights like that, but for once, she hadn't been able to bring herself to. No matter what she did, she couldn't tear her mind from Jace and Alec. Isabelle, at least, they had managed to cheer up a little bit, but Jace…

She dropped her keys in the bowl on the side table then carefully removed her heels; best not to wake anyone at this early hour and give rise to uncomfortable questions. Shoes in one hand, she jogged up the stairs to her room, creeping along the hallway, carefully listening to see if anyone else was awake. She came to her door and slowly started easing it open, tongue pressed against the back of her teeth in concentration.

"Good morning, Celia." Ky's voice slid softly across the hallway from somewhere behind her. She turned around, trying to suppress any expression that might prove her guilt. As it was, her eyes were wide with shock at being discovered.

"Ky." She said, startled.

He smiled wanly. He was leaning across the railing of the stairs, hair awry and deep circles under his tired gray eyes. He looked awful, wearing fraying black sweatpants and a pale blue shirt from an old school play he'd been in. He held a knife loosely in one hand and Celia deducted that he had been up in the spare room they used as a family training space, practicing in the watery light of the dawn and waiting for her to come home.

He moved without sound down the steps and stood in front of her, only about a foot away, and staring down at her.

"Where were you Ceals? I thought I told you to be home _at a reasonable hour._ " The worry, as well as the hurt, was evident in his voice. Celia felt a sick roiling in her stomach. What had Ky ever done but take care of her, and now here she was, blatantly ignoring that care, and wandering off. Even she felt the hints of betrayal.

She firmly pushed the thoughts aside. It was a shame, she thought, and not for the first time, that Ky would likely never get to be a parent; no child would ever want to let him down. Really, it was only the idea that he was _not_ her father and that he therefore didn't have any true power over her actions that allowed Celia to go about as she did. Sad, but true.

She leaned in, glaring. "You can't tell me what to do, _Amedeo_." She hissed. " _Tu non sei mio padre._ "

He looked at her as if she had slapped him, but then his face went hard. "That's uncalled for."

She pushed her door the rest of the way open, and Ky followed her in. Clary had helped her paint her room an outrageous shade of red with black, white and grey splatter paint freckling the walls and the ceiling when they were thirteen, but over the years, Celia had tacked several pictures of herself and the Departed over their handiwork. Spare clothes, especially undergarments, littered the floor so thickly, she could hardly see the carpet. Scattered throughout the sea of fabric weapons and several piles of precariously stacked books rose like small islands.

Ky looked around, exasperated as always at the state of her quarters. She was half tempted to scoff back that he was no better, but she resisted, opting instead to kick obstacles out of the way as she pulled her hair out of bun.

"Celia, you can't keep doing this." His whispered voice was low and urgent, and very harsh. Celia rarely fought with her brother, but his temper had been short as of late and hers as well. Disagreement had been waiting on the horizon like a deadly charcoal smudge of a thunderstorm.

She whipped around. "And why not? Who are you to tell me how I do and don't spend my life? It's mine to live and ruin and no one else's!" She struggled to keep her voice down and not wake her slumbering parents. As she spoke though, her arms waved wildly, as they always did when she argued with Ky. She blamed her Italian heritage for the habit; at times, it felt as if the extremity of her emotions were slipping from the tips of her fingers, like birds.

Ky gasped, focus caught on her arm, where a bad burn was planted on the inside of her elbow like a kiss. He rushed forward, pulling his sister's slim hand towards him and pushing up her sleeve to look for more burns. "Celia," He said, his voice quiet and tender. "What happened?" His eyes, large with distress, turned up to meet her own and her shoulders sagged. "What happened?"

She pulled away. "Nothing. I met a demon on the way home. I took care of it."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

She dropped her head. "Because I didn't want you to be angry."

"Oh, Celia," he said, wrapping his arms around her in a tight bear hug. "I could never be truly angry with you."

"You've just had so much on your mind…"She started, looking up at him.

He kissed her forehead. "I will always have time for you. Now sit down and let me look at that."

Celia plopped down on the bed as Ky ran careful fingers up her arms, checked under her chin.

"They're demon burns, you won't be able to do much, even with a stele, and I already gave myself an Iratze."

Ky finished his check and touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips. "I'm your big brother. Sometimes, I just need to see these things for myself in order to believe them."

She smiled. "Do you have any coffee, then? Because it's early, and I need a kick-start."

Ky laughed. He always had coffee; he needed it first thing in the morning before he could ever be of any use. "Of course," He said, offering her his hand. She took it and pulled herself up, then followed him out the door. She bumped him with her shoulder

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you OK?"

He stopped and looked at her. He studied her face for a few moments before he at last sighed. "I don't think that I'm going to be alright for a while, Ceals."

"Is it really that hard?" She asked, looking at him. Celia had never really loved someone as much as Ky had loved his boyfriend, then had to face the kind of messy end that he did. She wanted desperately to understand, but knew, deep down, that she never really would.

He didn't say anything, but the answer was written just as plainly on his face. Celia felt tears in the back of her throat. Ky was just so beautifully innocent, it was difficult to see him so shattered like this. She took his hand, swinging it a bit. "Come on, we both need something in our stomachs right now, and if it's the big brother's job to look after the little sister," She straightened up, "then the little sister must take the time to, on occasion, look after the big brother."

He smiled, but there wasn't and joy or happiness at her humor in it, and allowed himself to be led down the stairs by Celia towards the kitchen; the caretaker for once being taken care of by his charge.


	11. Chapter 11

Jace sat down in the booth next to Clary. He didn't really want to be here, but Izzy had come to him insisting that he leave Alec's side, if only for a little while, for the sake of all their sanities'. Clary had been training upstairs. He had barely seen her in the past few days except for a few moments when she dropped by to say hello and to check on Alec. He loved her for that. But it was a Friday, Departed night, and when he had gone up to see her, she had asked if he wanted to come along. He had thought about what Izzy said, about the Departed being good people, and what she had said that first night, about Will. Despite any misgivings he had about them, a part of Jace knew that he couldn't love Clary without accepting her merry band of misfits.

That didn't mean he wouldn't rather be with Alec, though. He had barely left his brother's side while he had been healing. Brothers Zachariah and Enoch had come in yesterday to question him about Maureen, and Alec had answered to the best of his abilities before going back to sleep, worn out by the entire ordeal. Later, the two of them had talked, really talked, like they hadn't done in a long time. Jace talked about Clary and the Departed and Alec talked about his breakup with Magnus. It had been good, to talk to someone he knew would always understand him. A nice chance to take a deep breath after everything that had been going on lately.

Celia was settled in next to him and Isabelle, Simon and Will were on the other side of the table. Will was arguing with Celia about something from his place across from Clary, but Jace was too busy watching Clary to pay attention to what they were saying. She looked so happy, so certain of herself. He couldn't help but compare her to that girl who had stumbled into the storage closet of the Pandemonium. That Clary had been so hesitant, this Clary, his Clary, looked more like a queen quietly holding court. He tugged on a strand of her hair, and she turned and looked at him, eyes wide.

"What?"

"Nothing." He smiled. "You know I love you, right?"

She laughed a little. "I love—"

"—DUCKS!" Celia finished, practically shouting in Jace's ear.

Jace scowled. "What about them?"

Celia looked murderous. "Will wants to make an army of cannibal ducks."

He blinked. "Why?"

"Because an army of cannibal ducks would be awesome, that's why."

That was Will, from the corner. No longer invested in the argument, he had picked up the menu and was scanning it thoughtfully. He threw out his comment like an afterthought.

"Wait," Clary's brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of this development. "Cannibal as in they eat humans or cannibal as in they eat other ducks."

"As in they eat other ducks, obviously," Will scoffed. "I bet they have it in them, too."

"Although," Simon added. "The eating-people thing would be useful. We could set them on our enemies. No one would ever see it coming."

Will considered this. "They are surprisingly vicious."

Celia threw up her arms. "But _why?_ "

Will, Clary and Simon seemed to shrug in unison. "Why not?" they coursed.

A twinge of jealousy shot trough Jace as he watched Clary and Will lock eyes and start laughing, but then the waitress, a fairy named Americe, was there to take their orders and everything was forgotten. Will ditched his menu and settled for 'his usual' and The Departed did the same. Jace hesitated for a moment—the Valkyrie, while still a haunt for local downworlders and Nephilim, wasn't as familiar to him as Taki's.

"Just a burger," He finally conceded. "Medium, please."

Americe swept up their menus and was gone as quickly as she had come. The table was left in a silent lull for a moment before anyone picked up the conversation again. Clearly, the duck argument was over.

"You know," Isabelle said, leaning her head on Simon's shoulder. "This place isn't half bad."

Clary chuckled. "We've been coming here every Friday since we were—what? Ten?"

"Eleven," Will filled in. "And it was only because Ky or my mom came with us."

"Speaking of, where is Ky?" Simon asked, sweeping some of Izzy's hair out of his face. "He usually tags along."

Celia leaned on her hands thoughtfully. "With his theater friends, I think. I don't know. I didn't ask."

"How's he been?" Will's voice was tinged with care and concern, and for the first time, it dawned on Jace how tightly knit the four of them were—Celia and Ky, Will, Clary and Simon—like a little family. What had happened to Ky, he wondered, that would cause Celia, who seemed like such a head-strong girl, to step back and consider caution and make Will so worried.

Celia fiddled with her knife. "He's fine, I guess. We don't really talk about it. He doesn't like too."

Simon was watching the whole exchange with a frown. "And what about Nick? Where did he vanish to?"

Clary glanced quickly at him, something unreadable in her eyes. "Does it matter? At least he's gone. I think it's a good thing that he has turned up anywhere. I don't know what I would do if I—"

"Don't," Celia's voice was harsh and sharp as a knife. "Don't speculate. You don't get it. Just leave it alone. Why are we even talking about this anyways? What does it even matter?"

Izzy looked at Celia funny. "What happened."

"Nothing that you need to worry about." Celia's voice was tight and she wasn't looking at any of them; she had fixed her gaze on something on the main floor, past the railing of the balcony they were sitting on.

Izzy looked at Simon, a question clear in his eyes, but Simon shook his head. Thy sat like that, blanketed by tense silence, until the food came. Americe dropped a grilled cheese and tomato soup in front of Will and a small bowl of mac and cheese before Clary before depositing the rest of the orders to everyone else.

"So," Will said once their food had been delivered, voice filled with false cheer. "Who has plans for Thanksgiving?"

Clary blinked. "What?"

"Thanksgiving, Clares." Wil said, taking a large bite from his sandwich. "National holiday where Americans everywhere gather around to eat and watch football. My mom always makes yams and Mrs. Lewis whips up a fabulous apple pie and Luke makes a turkey that we always think is going to be too much but we end up enjoying anyways? Thanksgiving, Clary. Third Thursday of November. Turkey day."

Clary looked down at her mac and cheese glumly. "I had totally forgotten about that. When is it, again?"

Will paused for a long moment, studying her. "This Thursday."

The entire table, or rather, the rest of the Departed, broke out into mayhem as they debated what they were going to do in such short notice. Everyone, it seemed, had been too caught up in all the drama that had been flying around to keep track of the date. Jace and Isabelle just stared at each other in confusion. For as long as they had lived in New York, they had never heard of Thanksgiving.

"Wait!" Izzy's voice rang loud and clear over the bickering of the Departed. She looked briefly at Simon, then at everyone else. "What's Thanksgiving?"


	12. Chapter 12

Isabelle leaned on the counter in Will's kitchen and watch Celia rinse off a colander full of green beans. If she was being completely honest with herself, she didn't know why she was here. Simon had called her while Jace and Alec had been training and she'd just been lounging around her room so she had come. It felt weird, though, to be in someone else's house while they cleaned it and prepared a dinner that she would apparently be partaking in later that day. She still didn't entirely understand the concept of Thanksgiving—of getting together and feasting. It was a day, she had been repeatedly told, that was specifically set aside for being thankful for everything good in your life, but from the stories she had heard, that didn't seem to always happen. And besides, why spend a day being thankful? Shouldn't you spend your life being thankful?

She watched as Celia dumped the beans into a large pot to steam, dipping her head and swinging her hips to the music that drifted out of the phone in her back pocket.

"So you guys are getting everything together?" Izzy asked. She kicked herself for being so awkward. She hung out with the Departed more than her brothers did because Simon had the impression that she and Celia would like each other, but there was still the distinct feeling that they were his friends, not hers.

Celia did a little chacha and nodded. "Carolyn's training today so it's up to us, not that I mind. Ky's a better cook than I am, but I can still manage, and I get the impression that Will and Si think of cleaning more as a game than a chore when they're working together."

"Is your brother coming?"

"We'll see." Celia's voice was tight, but she sashayed over to the fridge with the same lighthearted cheer that she had danced with earlier and pulled out several canisters. "Crescents" she said by way of explanation. "Want to help?"

Izzy peeled herself off the counter and moved to stand by Celia, who was pulling out a baking sheet. "What do you need me to do?"

Celia whacked a canisters against the counter and started unwrapping the cardboard to reveal the dough inside. "You just rip," she said, pulling off a triangle of dough, "and roll."

She watched as Izzy did one and then continued with her own. "Are your brothers coming?" She asked.

Izzy plopped a poorly constructed crescent onto the baking sheet. "I think Jace is, because Clary, but I don't know about Alec."

Celia was let that sit for a moment before responding. Her song had finished and the only sounds were the gently plop of dough dropping onto the sheet and the boys, somewhere upstairs, arguing or laughing. It was so hard to tell sometimes.

"He should come." Celia said, quietly and unexpectedly. "Alec, that is. He should come."

Izzy stared at her, dough still sticky in her hands. Celia dutifully continued to roll up crescents and place them carefully on the sheet.

"Why?"

Celia shrugged a shoulder, looking as awkward as Izzy felt. "I dunno. Maybe it will help."

"Help."

"To see people. To get—" She ripped the tringle of dough as she tore it from the roll and swore loudly and badly enough that Izzy raised her eyebrows.

"Are you okay?"

Celia shredded the dough in her quick fingers. The light caught on her glittery nail polish as she did. Izzy was torn between going to get Will and Simon and wanting to give the other girl a hug. She wasn't as small as Clary, but there was that same stubbornness. That same steely pride.

"Celia?" She asked.

"I'm—it's fine," she huffed. She pulled out the trash and tossed the remains of the dough into it. She washed her hands forcefully, splashing water everywhere and then whipping the towel off the hook to dry her hands and the counter.

"Doesn't look like it."

"Well it is."

Hesitantly, Izzy laid her hand on Celia's shoulder. "What's wrong?" She asked. She tried to keep her voice gentle, kind. Sometimes she wondered if she had it in her to be those things. Her mother had worked so hard to raise her to be a warrior woman.

"My brother and I only ever had each other." She said quietly. She didn't turn her head to meet Izzy's gaze. "My parents—well, they're difficult people. And I just—I just," she threw up her hands.

Without thinking about it, Izzy folded Celia into a tight hug. She struggled to find the right words. Mundies, she knew, usually reached for 'I'm sorry' in these scenarios, but she had always hated those words. She had nothing to apologize for, and now they just seemed so shallow. So inadequate. She settled on patting Celia's back, even if the action was a little stiff.

"Shit, I'm crying," Celia said, pulling back. She wiped a few tears from the corner of her eyes carefully. "I don't know what got into me. It's just Ky's been…not himself lately, and I don't know how to fix it and—"

"What happened to him?"

At this, Celia did meet Izzy's eyes. They were the same, clear grey that Izzy remembered seeing when she had met Ky briefly that day outside the infirmary. Celia's words from that day came creeping back into her mind:

 _Let's just say I know what it's like to wonder if your brother's going to survive the night._

Celia took a deep breath and looked at Izzy. "The world is terrible place, and I would give everything I have and everything I am to protect my brother from it."

Izzy nodded, slowly. Celia didn't have to say anything; she had conveyed her message perfectly. It was, after all, something that Izzy herself had thought so frequently since Alec had been attacked. Something that had flittered through her mind day after day as she had watched him struggle to get well. Something that had pierced her heart like a dagger every time she saw his gaunt face and crooked hands as he retreated back into the safe recesses of the empty hallways to his room. And she understood now, perhaps a little better, why Simon thought she and Celia would be good for each other, and for the first time that day, she realized why Thanksgiving was so important.


	13. Chapter 13

Will lay on the ground and groaned. He had his radio cranked up full volume. His 'Departed' playlist was screaming through the speakers. Simon was moving furniture back into place from where they had moved it so they could vacuum the living room. It wasn't that Will hated cleaning. He just hated how long it took. His delicate disposition couldn't handle it. He was going to die of boredom and dust inhalation. He wanted Clary to finish shopping and come back. Life was always better when Clary was in his immediate vicinity.

"I need you to move." Simon was standing over him with the coffee table in his hands. His new vampire strength meant that he could do all the work while Will lay about. Score.

"I don't think I can." Will admitted truthfully. Moving seemed like it would take far too much energy. "I'm working so I won't have to try so hard…" he sang with the music. He half-heartedly picked at the carpet.

"You're pathetic."

He closed his eyes. "Mmmm."

"I'm going to drop this on you."

Will groaned again. "That's mean."

"Move and I won't."

"I caaaan't."

"Can't what?"

That was Clary's voice, a little breathless from being out in the cold November morning and carrying groceries but cheerful as ever. Will smiled.

"He won't move," Simon grumbled.

"Can't." Will corrected, letting his eyes flutter open. They settled on Clary standing above him, her red hair framing her face like a fiery halo. Her arms were full of plastic grocery bags.

"Can't move." He said.

Clary frowned, thoughtful. "Can you roll?"

"Maybe."

She set the groceries on the floor and flopped down on the couch, snuggling her feet beneath her. "Try," she suggested.

He grinned as he managed to roll himself across the carpet to her feet. Simon humpfed as he set the table down and brushed off his hands.

"Anything else? I think we still have to—"

"I don't care; I'm not doing it. You can't make me!" Will moaned. He was lying on his stomach, face buried in his elbow.

"We have to put away groceries."

Will screamed at the floor to quiet Simon's insistent voice. "No. I won't. I refuse."

He could hear Clary chuckling above him and rolled over when he felt her toe tap his back once then twice.

"I think he's dead, Si." She said.

Will scowled. "I'm not dead."

Simon glared at him, but Will could see he was repressing a smile. "Then help."

He groaned again. "But that takes so much effort."

"Come on." Clary slid off the couch to stand over him, hands out to help pull him up. He reached for them with a long suffering sigh and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Clary reached out to steady him and he pulled away quickly, swallowing.

"So, groceries?" He asked.

"Groceries" she replied, smiling.

Internally, he sighed in relief that she hadn't seemed to notice how quickly he had pulled away, but as he watched her pick up plastic bags and carry them into the kitchen after Simon, he questioned whether or not that was an actual triumph. If only, he thought for the millionth time. If only, if only, if only.

Celia and Izzy were in the kitchen when the three of them filled in and Celia's music warred briefly with his for dominance over airspace in the small room. Will frowned at her and she shut cranked hers up. She threw her hands up and danced like if this was a rave, not her best friends kitchen. She sang with her music, working hard to drown out whatever song Will was trying to play. He got her point. He gave up. Bemused, he shut his radio off.

"Aww," Clary said, looking back over her shoulder at him. "I liked that song."

He shrugged. Simon was pulling out cans of cranberries like if it was all he was born to do. Clary had paused though with a bag of chips lightly clutched in her hands. He took two steps and grabbed it from her then set it lightly on the top of the fridge where it belonged. "Tell Celia."

"Willim, your music sucks." Celia said by way of response.

"What even is this?"

"Macklemore, baby." She swung her hips around. "Downtown!"

Will blinked. "Celia?"

"Mmm?" She bent to pull the crescents out of the oven.

"You're weird as hell."

She turned and fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Aww, thanks Willie."

Clary blanched from her perch on the counter. She was handing Simon cans as mechanically as he had unloaded them, but she froze now to look at Celia. "Please don't ever call him that again."

Celia's eyebrows shot up. "Why?"

Clary's face scrunched up, trying to mirror her disgust and discomfort. "It just songs so wrong."

"Is anyone going to help?" Simon called. He was standing on his toes to reach the bread baskets that Carolyn had inexplicably set out of reach of everybody.

Will stepped forward, but Clary was already pulling her feet underneath her so she could stand on the counter. She tossed them down to Simon.

"There ya go."

He flicked her a quick thumbs up which she reciprocated. Will watched as Simon pulled out some cloth napkins and he and Izzy started filling up the baskets with crescents and rolls and biscuits. Celia was checking the beans. The turkey was in the oven. The clock read 4:03. His mom would be home in nine minutes. They would start eating in twenty seven. Around him, his friends moved about the kitchen like if it was their own.

"Will."

He looked up to see Clary holding out her arms to him. She was still standing on the counter; she wanted his help to get down. He took a step forward, then another. Clary reached down to brace her hands against his shoulders, something she had done a thousand times, he was sure. He was always helping her down from high places.

"I called your name a couple times." She said quietly.

He smiled lightly at her, grabbed her hips to pull her gently to the ground. "Sorry. Lost in my thoughts."

Her feet touched the floor and he moved to step back, but she grabbed a lock of his hair, brushed it out of his eyes, tugged on it playfully.

"Your hair's getting long." She said lightly. Breathlessly? No. He was imagining things.

He shook his head, dislodging her hand. "I'll get it cut soon," he promised.

"You look tired."

He shrugged. "I hate sleep."

"Will," Celia barked at him from across the kitchen. He looked up at her, thrown out of the world he had inhabited for a few seconds with Clary.

"Yeah?"

"Go get dressed."

He glanced down at the clothes he was wearing: rainbow striped socks, a nicer pair of jeans, a plain blue shirt. "What's wrong with this."

"I don't even know where to begin."

"What does that mean!?"

Celia's eyes shot lasers at him. "Clary," she said, clearly irked by his lack of fashion sense. "Please help him."

Clary chucked and grabbed his hand. Will's heart stopped for a second. It was nothing; they had been grabbing each other's hands, bumping shoulders, brushing against each other since they were kids. It was nothing. His heart started beating again, but it felt a little frantic.

"Come on, Will," She said, laughter touching lightly on her words, "best not to upset Celia."

"It most certainly is not." Celia called back. She didn't look over her shoulder at them, but the waving of her spoon in the air was threat enough. Will allowed himself to follow Clary upstairs, but he dropped her hand as quickly as he could. If he was going to survive the night, he couldn't have his heart giving out on him.


End file.
